


Footsteps

by Crowsister



Series: Blüdhaven Blues [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Shazam (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Black Adam Pre-Villainy, Gen, He had to be good at some point, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 11:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14212047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowsister/pseuds/Crowsister
Summary: A little girl hears a story of a forgotten hero of Kahndaq for her birthday.





	Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperKamiGodEspurrOfMan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperKamiGodEspurrOfMan/gifts).



####  **Blüdhaven, NJ** **  
****June 30, 1969**

Raimonda Soliani watched Theodore, her twin, bounce about the large, yet cramped room. He talked to all of their relatives, bouncing between the countless amount of them and chatting eagerly. She smiled, but then saw herself in the mirror.

She bit her lip, her little heart pounding as she realized that one of her little pigtails were askew. She fixed them with a pudgy hand, but made it worse as her hand shook. She tried not to tear up, feeling so overwhelmed, but was interrupted as someone scooped her up.

She looked sharply to whoever picked her up, but felt herself _grin_ and felt a sudden lightness in her chest. “Baba!”

“My favorite birthday girl looks too sad on her birthday,” her grandfather stated with his accent elongating his vowels, his tan and weathered face smiling. He always reminded her of a living statue of sandstone, like the kind in his old photos from Kahndaq. But his hair was too white and soft to belong on a statue and he was too warm to be one. “What’s wrong?”

“My pigtail came out and it’s so loud, Baba,” she whined softly, biting her lip and rubbing her hands together as if she had too much energy within them. “Theo loves all the attention, but...I feel like I’m in fast-sand.”

“Quicksand, darling,” he replied. He hummed a moment, scanning over her head and nodding. “Come on. Let’s go outside a moment and I’ll give you your birthday present, alright?”

“Please?” She looked over her shoulder, seeing her father’s eyebrows sinch together. She felt tears well up, but her grandfather took her outside before she could say anything.

Her grandfather looked both ways, up and down the street, before sitting down with her. He gently sat her in his lap. He gently took out the remaining pigtail and gently ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, sighing as he gently finger-brushed through her hair and pulled it into a single tail. “Papa’s going to be mad,” she muttered. “I told him I’d be stronger.”

“You’re very strong, Raimonda,” her grandfather replied, gently patting her back. “Not everyone can handle crowds, even if those crowds are family.”

“I know, but I cried at the last sermon Papa gave and he wasn’t happy,” Raimonda replied, rubbing her eye with a knuckle. “I’m trying, I really am.” Her voice cracked at the last part of that sentence.

“I know.” Her grandfather gently rocked her back and forth in the way that made it feel like something was oozing out of the base of her head, slowly being replaced with calm. “Would you feel better if I told you a story?”

“...I love your stories,” she muttered, slowly smiling. “Please tell me a story?”

Her eyes locked onto his face as he began to speak, but the images he wove quickly filled her mind. An ancient Kahndaq, full of magic and mystery. The sun and sand swept her up in warmth, filling her to her core as he talked about his home country.

“This story has been passed down many, many, many times,” he replied, jerking her out of the warmth of Kahndaq as he emphasized this. “I do not know if it is true...but I would like to believe so. You tell me when I’m done if you believe too, okay?”

“Okay, Baba, tell me the story!” She bounced a little, patting his chest rapidly. “I love when you talk about Kahndaq! I wanna see it someday.”

He laughed. “Wait until you’re older, little one! It’s too messy for a pretty face like yours to go there.”

“I’m not pretty,” she said, sitting back and crossing her arms. “I’m awesome.” She blinked. “Wait, you changed the topic! Tell me the story, Baba.”

“It was a long time ago,” he replied. “The stars were still visible every night. There were no cars, no street lights, no electricity – no electricity except the mighty _lightning_ in the sky, lighting up the night as rain brought prosperity to the land. Many thought such storms were a sign of displeasure with the gods, but our family’s city was not among them. They prayed on such days and nights and they were the only people around that didn’t get flooded by the storm. On one such night, our ancestor – the Captain of the Guard for a now forgotten and gone city in Kahndaq – found a man, knocked unconscious, out amongst the dunes. He brought him home...”

* * *

_Captain Menes brought the strange man into his home, observing his bright red tunic and strange appearance. He and his wife gently tended to his wounds the best they could, but his strange tunic would not be removed and his body was unlike anything they had ever seen before. His skin was impossibly smooth, like a stone caressed by a river, and his ears were pointed like a jackal’s. An jagged golden emblem covered his chest, matched by thick gold bands around his wrists and ankles._

_“What is he?” His wife asked, looking at him with wide eyes._

_Menes looked at the man laying on his bed. “Someone who needs our help.”_

* * *

“That’s so cool,” Raimonda whispered. “He had pointy ears? Like an elf?”

“That’s what my father said his father said, who got that from his father and their fathers back and back,” her grandfather said. “All the way back to Menes, when he told this story to his children.”

“What happened next?” Raimonda asked, watching her grandfather with wide brown eyes.

“They nursed the strange man back to health, slowly. He did not make it easy, always trying to get up and ended up aggravating his wounds.” He snorted, lightly tapping her nose. “Like you when you broke your leg.”

“I had good reason! Theo had a cold and needed orange juice,” she replied, crossing her arms. “The strange man probably had a good reason too!”

Her grandfather chuckled. “He did. He had been injured in a fight with a great evil and the evil? The evil was hunting him. He was a proud man — he wouldn’t let someone else fight his battles and he believed, from his observations of Menes, that Menes would try. Tried to convince Menes that he’d be healed at the next dawn and able to go, get out of his hair, but Menes wouldn’t hear it.”

“Well _yeah_ , that’s because people don’t get better that fast,” Raimonda replied, “but...I guess if he can have pointy ears and be weird, he can do a lot of weird stuff.”

Her grandfather nodded, smiling down at her. “Exactly. Now, Menes had his wife send people away as he kept an eye on his house guest.”

* * *

_“What is your name?” Menes asked, raising his eyebrows. This man was strange, but he talked and moved like anybody Menes had ever met, so he wasn’t a kheft. Probably._

_The man looked at him, his black eyes catching the light of the sun from a nearby window. He licked his lips before looking away from Menes. “It is better that you do not know.”_

_Menes chuckled, sitting in a chair near the bed his guest was sitting up in. He leaned forward towards the man. “It’s good manners. I have earned that much trust, at least, with saving you from your wounds and sheltering you, have I not?”_

_The man’s eyes flickered back to Menes and he sighed._

* * *

“His name was Adam?” Raimonda asked, raising her eyebrows. “Was he named after the Adam from the Bible?”

“I don’t know,” her grandfather answered. “Maybe so. But Adam was a mighty protector: his story came flowing from his mouth as soon as his name did. He was a champion of the people, sent by the gods to protect them. Menes was humbled to have him in his home and made sure he was comfortable.”

“But did the evil catch up to Adam?” Raimonda asked, wrinkling her brow. “Did he die? Did Menes die? Did it eat them? Was it the Devil? Did-”

“Slow down, Raimonda,” her grandfather laughed. “Let me tell the story.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fiddling with her shirt. Her grandfather rubbed her back and she smiled up at him.

* * *

_Later, that night, Menes awoke to a strange sound. He grabbed his sword and went to investigate the noise, thinking it was a pest nosing in his stores._

_It was not. It was a large monster, indescribable in shape and scope. Menes almost dropped his sword, his whole body tensing up. He gripped his sword tighter and let out a primal scream, Horus being with him as he charged forward. His wife, his unborn child, and his house guest were within the house. He would not let this monster harm them. He was not Captain of the Guard for show: his job was to protect, just as Adam’s was._

_He and the monster fought for hours, it seemed. Time seemed to blur, slowing and quickening at its leisure. Metal clashed against its strange hide, bouncing off. But Captain Menes kept it occupied, staving off its attacks._

_Then, the first light of dawn broke through the sky, Nut retiring for the night. Captain Menes was almost ready to fall to exhaustion alone, but he would not fall for he was the last line of defense between this monster and his city and home. He closed his eyes for one moment and heard thunder crackle above him. He opened his eyes to see Adam in front of him, now with lightning crackling out of his hands._

_“Fall, monster!” Adam yelled._

* * *

Raimonda squirmed, smiling. “He was healed?”

“Entirely.” Her grandfather made a circular motion with his hand. “He was as whole as you and me, sitting here today. He beat that monster back with lightning and his fists, pounding it into a pulp. A good, strong right hook, then a left and BAM!” Her grandfather clapped his hands. “Hit the monster with lightning. The monster fell, caged in lightning...”

* * *

_“This makes us even,” Adam said, looking over his shoulder at Menes. “You saved my life, I saved yours.”_

_Menes looked at Adam with soft eyes and tapped a loose fist against his heart. “No, Adam. You not only saved my life, but my wife and child’s as well. Thank you, Mighty Adam.”_

* * *

“That’s why there’s an Adam back on our family tree everywhere?” Raimonda asked.

Her grandfather nodded. “In honor of the hero who saved our family, all those years ago. Your father didn’t let you and your brother carry on that tradition, but...if I had to pick between you and your brother...” He hummed, looking down at her.

“Pick between us for what?” She asked, tilting her head.

“For which one to be the Adam between you two,” her grandfather said. “It’s a big legacy to uphold.”

Raimonda jumped up off of her grandfather’s lap, standing on the stairs next to him. “Then I should do it! Theo doesn’t need anything heavy — he already gets in trouble with Papa all the time for his card tricks!”

Her grandfather smiled, looking at her with soft, sad eyes. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh!” She nodded quickly. “It’s good that we remember all this old stuff, but it’s a hard thing to live up to! But...but I could hold up the Adam legacy. My arms are little and new, but still good!” She flexed like Popeye, trying to make her muscles pop out of her arms.

Her grandfather chuckled, scooping her up. He tickled her and she giggled loudly, squirming in his grasp. He held her up with his hands under her armpits, holding her up to the sky. Raimonda grinned down at her grandfather, her brown eyes meeting his. They both jumped as thunder cracked above them, but she relaxed as her grandfather began to laugh.

“That’s proof,” he replied quietly, looking up at the rain as it began to fall, “that my namesake is still out there. Adam’s still out there, hunting down evil and protecting humanity.” He set her in his lap, looking down at her. “So. Whatcha think? Did Adam really exist?”

“I think so,” she answered. “I think he was picked by God though. I think God picks people like Adam to be good examples. Like Noah. And Jesus. So I wanna be apart of that and be good. I wanna be an Adam.”

He gently took her inside, drying her off in the hallway. He brought her into a side room, hurriedly taking her hand. He took a paintbrush out of his pocket and drew a red A with paint along her hand, then drew over it with a black A. He smiled down at her as she looked at him with big eyes. “Say after me: shazam!”

“Shazam?” She whispered.

His eyes lit up and he clapped. “That’s it. You’re an Adam now.” He gently washed off the paint in the bathroom, humming a light and quick tune. “You can’t tell anyone you’re an Adam, alright?”

“Okay Baba Adam,” she replied, nodding. “...was that my birthday present?”

“No,” he laughed. He pulled out a red leather journal and her eyes lit up.

**Author's Note:**

> Was this heavy-handed? 
> 
> Yes, most definitely. But I wanted to establish the parallels and set up Rai for an identity crisis. 
> 
> Whether or not the "ritual" at the end where her grandfather paints the A's on her hand is magic is up in the air and purposefully vague, same with the identity of the great evil Teth-Adam was fighting all those years ago. The journal, however, comes back in a later part of Raimonda's life.
> 
> Originally, this was a plot thread of Low-Key, but Theophania Soliani is nothing if not someone who can *share*.


End file.
